


Pretty Fly for a Poltergeist

by BarracudaHeart



Category: Anya's Ghost
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Friendship, Gen, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Temporary Character Death, Unofficial Sequel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2377469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarracudaHeart/pseuds/BarracudaHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>**ON HIATUS** Anya didn't expect Emily to return, or at least, she's pretty certain this is the same Emily who tried to burn her house down years ago. Regardless, she didn't really need this to happen during senior year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fan sequel to Vera Brogsol's graphic novel, 'Anya's Ghost'. I'm not exactly sure how many chapters it will be, nor am I sure if there's any shipping yet, but we'll see. This is mostly gonna be cute fluffy stuff in the forms of drabbles, but heavy stuff will happen later, so I'll warn you when.

First period had not even gotten halfway through, and already, Siobhan had ditched class, rapping on the glass of the classroom window, catching the attention of Anya, who luckily had the window seat. The latter was trying to appear attentive to the teacher, who droned through the class, English IV's syllabus. Hiding an amused grin, Anya leaned towards the window to comment quietly, "You're terrible. First day of senior year, you already bailed."

"I know," the other smirked, arms folded, "Getting good practice in for the rest of the year. Besides, first period is a crapnap, I mean, I'd totally love to meet the genius who invented 'Urban Anthropology'," she snorted sarcastically.

"Hey, you're the one who picked it," Anya chuckled softly, "And it's a wonder how you've passed all four years without dropping below a B."

"Groundbreaker of a secret; bullshitting it," Siobhan whispered, ducking slightly when the teacher turned her attention to the window. Not seeing the bailed-out student, the teacher frowned to Anya slightly, "Don't get too distracted by what's outside, Ms. Borzakovskaya, this syllabus is pretty intensive."

"Yes, m'am," Anya mumbled, ears slightly red from getting singled out, and flipped the page, blankly staring at the text; a mile long list of books they'd be reading in the class, analyzing and writing essays on, and within the next term, doing group projects on. Not that that was a bad thing, but reading and studying books was a lot more fun and interesting when there wasn't a grade involved.

In a split second, Siobhan pulled the syllabus from her, highlighter out, listening to the teacher, highlighting the words 'curved grades', grinning, "See? I can listen in on your classes too."

Anya snorted, watching as her friend did her work for her. She knew it was mostly for sake of amusement, not actual attempts to make Anya's class easier. But without anything to do, but pretend to listen, Anya had the time for her mind to wander.

It had been two years since she had fatefully fallen into the well, two years since she came across the bones of Emily Reilly, and two years since she had rescued her family from a ghost that mirrored what could have been Anya's worst traits; insecurity, and jealousy, if not more dangerous.

After these two years, Anya still could not erase the face of Emily Reilly from her memories. The ghost had started as a friend, becoming what could have been one of the most dangerous supernatural beings to deal with. Even after threatening Anya's family and her life, the student still managed to overcome Emily, making her realize the futility of her situation; she was dead, and her life was over. And so, Emily left.

Where to, Anya still wondered. She never really had full belief in the concepts of heaven and hell. Emily's life and choices really didn't seem that heavenly, but somehow, being alone in the bottom of a well for ninety years seemed like hell enough.

Maybe Emily just didn't exist anymore. Maybe her conscience had been wiped from the slate.

Anya just didn't know. All she knew was that the long agitated ghost's bones had been removed from the well before the public safety project started, and were buried somewhere else, unmarked. Emily Reilly received no epitaph.

Anya still remembered her without one.

Sometimes she even saw her in her dreams. Not one on one, but in the background, like an individual strolling through the crowds, or occasionally a spectator of the dream's events. Sometimes she was in good dreams, and sometimes in nightmares, which confirmed Anya's mistrust of the girl.

Though, Anya did sometimes wish; on some days, like after having good dreams where she recognized Emily's face; that they could have been on better terms. Maybe in a different time. Anya sometimes wondered what could have happened if she could have gone back in time to stop Emily from making the choices she made. Maybe she would have turned out nicer. Maybe she would have gotten luckier at finding lovers, or being popular. Maybe they could have been better friends. Anya could only imagine.

Anya sometimes daydreamed about this, though, at this moment, she was thinking over college letters, imagining them pouring in. The only issue was that Anya had no idea what she wanted to even do. Every time she thought of deciding between skills or practicality, her stomach just knotted, and she didn't feel like doing anything anymore.

Life was so much easier before she got periods.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she felt paper jam against her arm, looking to see her syllabus get passed back from the window, highlighter marker all over it, a plethora of colors, like a hippie threw up.

Siobhan had drawn a penis on the third page. With a smiley face on it.

Anya failed to hold back a laugh, and fully expected for the teacher to look at her. Embarrassment was spared, as the teacher was busy talking to the principal, occasionally glancing to the empty desk in the back corner, giving a nod of the head every so often.

 _Oh, right,_ Anya remembered. Transfer students usually got to the first class of the first day late to get a tour of the school beforehand. The principal was probably escorting one to this class. Anya remembered when that happened for her when she first moved to America, and how her elementary school principal proudly toured the school with her, only to bring her to class late where she got singled out like a dork.

As the principal headed toward the door, he waved his hand as though to beckon a student from the hall. Anya was about to go back to disinterest of the event, until the student walked in.

Dressed in the school uniform, hair wildly fluffy, and perpetually sour frown clear, stood who appeared to be the spitting image of Emily Reilly.

Anya stared at the girl, eyes wide in shock, mouth slightly agape. She didn't know if she was shocked or horrified.

"And who are you, miss?", the teacher asked the transfer student.

"Emily," the girl spoke, voice quiet and not the warmest, just as Anya remembered and somewhat feared.

"Emily Leary."

Not Reilly. That didn't really make Anya feel any less shocked. It just seemed too peculiar.

As Emily walked to her seat, Anya expected the girl to turn her head rigidly towards her, owlish eyes fixated with a cold gaze.

Emily never even glanced at Anya during the class, not even as the bell rang, and she exited the classroom, leaving the other to stay reeled in unsettled shock, only snapping out of it when Siobhan asked,

"Are you sure you don't smoke anything anymore? You look stoned!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya and Siobhan have lunch together, and Anya grows more curious about Emily Leary.

"You gonna eat your 'Russian delicacies' or stare them down?", Siobhan asked, noticing her friend's Anya's blank stare at her egg salad sandwich and apple.

Snapping out of her trance, Anya looked up, "Oh," and jammed the sandwich in her face, taking a monster bite, "Sorry, a little tired," she excused, "I'm so used to sleeping in for the summers that waking up so early for school is a killer."

"Get a job like me, and you'll have to be early to rise," Siobhan snorted. The snarky girl worked as a barista at the cafe three blocks from their school, which was a benefit for Anya, because she could get discounted goodies if she snuck the other cigarettes on the job. Anya didn't smoke anymore, having quit following Emily's departure, but she did occasionally buy Siobhan her weekly pack if the other was tight on money. Seemed fair enough so long as she got a couple coffees on the house now and then.

"I'm still looking for a job that doesn't involve having to stand over a grease fryer," Anya sighed, taking another bite of her sandwich, "And the craft store hasn't gotten back to me about my interview," she mumbled, "Neither has the museum."

"What about the library?", Siobhan shrugged, "You like books."

"They're just looking for volunteers nowadays, they don't pay anything," she huffed, "If this is what adulthood is going to be like, and then some, I swear I'm going to go native and live with wolves."

"You mean my brothers?", Siobhan snorted, referring to her large family.

"Ha," snickered Anya, putting her sandwich down, feeling her mind drift back to first period.

First period with Emily Leary.

Emily Reilly Leary, as Anya opted to call her.

All during second and third period, Anya had come up with multiple theories, some concluding that this was purely coincidence, others that this was indeed the case of a ghost with a stalker problem. And Anya's brain was focusing back on the latter way too much.

She was just waiting for the girl to turn her head and lock eyes with her. She was certain that the other was watching her when she wasn't looking at her in the classroom. She wasn't even sure where Emily was right now to begin with. She looked behind her shoulder, and saw nothing but other random students chatting at their respective tables. Anya looked around the cafeteria, searching for the dandelion-haired girl, and saw no trace of her. Maybe she just had the other lunch period, like Dima did. Or maybe she was just really good at spying. Anya was frankly too tired and too hungry to remain on edge all day, so she went back to her lunch.

Speaking of Dima, Anya had to admit, puberty did him good. The short, fobby dweeb with the Harry Potter glasses grew handsomely tall, and his nerd-specs were traded in for a more stylish pair of lenses. His accent was still there, but because his voice deepened, it was definitely a catcher with the ladies. Anya wasn't into him though, never really was, and as of the last two years, remained good friends who won the district science bowl as partners junior year.

"Hey Siobhan, do you have a chick named Emily Leary in any of your classes?", Anya decided to ask, maybe a tiny bit curious, though she kicked herself in the gut for obsessing over a mousy transfer student from who knows where.

"Leary? Yeah, I think she's in my second period tech theater class. Why?", she asked as she jammed another chip in her mouth.

"Oh, I have her in my first period class, she's a transfer student," she shrugged.

"Ah. I don't even know anyone in my classes until day 2 considering I bail as soon as roll gets called before syllabus," Siobhan admitted shamelessly.

"Still trying to be Captain Stealth?", Anya rolled her eyes, holding back a good natured smile.

"Oh I surpassed that, I'm just trying to see how soon they'll notice I'm gone and call on a manhunt. I want to get on the news, mugshot and everything," she laughed, "Put it on my résumé."

"To be an evil mastermind?"

"The evilest?", she smirked, finishing her lunch. "Cover for me while I smoke in the bathroom?"

"You could just go outside and hide under those bushes like usual," Anya shrugged.

"Oh, you didn't hear? Those bushes are long gone. Burned down."

" _Burned_? How?"

"Well long story short, took a smoke break under them this summer on my way back home from work, and well..."

"You _burned the bushes down?_ Siobhan how are you not dead right now?"

"Stealth~", she crooned with faux flirting, getting up, "Bathroom by the math center? Smoke detectors are crap in there."

"Sure," Anya sighed, crumpling her brown bag, tossing it in the garbage, following after Siobhan, out of the cafeteria.

Siobhan stood away from the stalls, whispering, "Crap, someone's in there, we all have to wait."

Before Anya could reply, the only occupied stall opened, and Anya's eyes almost locked with Emily Leary's. Almost.

Emily seemed to notice both girls, not particularly reactive, and gave a soft 'hi' out of customary kindness at a new school, and went to wash her hands, not paying any particular attention to them.

_She didn't even flinch. She didn't seem the least bit freaked to see me._

Just as soon as she exited the stall, the lanky transfer student left the bathroom, back to whatever class she was attending.

Maybe it was a sign that Emily Leary was just plain-jane Emily Leary, no Reilly surname to add.

Maybe it was a sign that this ghost was even more cunning than Anya thought.

Once Siobhan finished her smoke, they exited the bathroom, and departed for their separate classes, planning to meet up after school.

As the bell rang, and students exited their classrooms, Anya passed a math room to get to journalism, and almost ran right into Emily as the other exited.

Instead of apologizing for almost bumping into her, Anya asked with a curious but casual tone, "Have we met before?"

The other finally locked eyes with her for the first time, her face identical to the fierce ghost Anya had once befriended.

"I don't think so, sorry," she spoke plainly.

As she walked off without a second glance, Anya was convinced that Emily Reilly Leary was a liar.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya sits in on a track meet, shocked and curious to see her 'worst enemy' in the crowd of try-outs.

Thanks to a busy senior year schedule, Anya managed to suppress her concern over Emily's presence, almost forgetting about her until class the following morning. Half asleep in her seat, she perked up at the sound of opening bell, as the teacher greeted the students, beginning the lesson. Yawning, and giving a slight glance backward, her eyes seemed to involuntarily avert to the ghoulish girl in the rear corner seat. For a split second, Anya's heartbeat stuttered as she swore Emily's large, almost possessed eyes were at the same level as hers, almost meeting, then fixing their gaze on an errantly dropped pencil which Emily then picked up, focusing her attention back to her work.

 _She was just picking up a pencil, ok then,_ Anya thought to herself, both relieved and slightly frustrated. She was more than convinced Emily was indeed the ghost who had haunted her years back, and was certain she was going to drive herself nuts into trying to find out what kind of game Emily was playing.

Anya's eyes kept their focus on the other for only a short few seconds before she turned her attention back to the teacher, hoping the other wasn't going to try to bore holes through her head with those huge eyes that only her little brother, Sasha's, could rival.

* * *

After an uneventful rest of the day, Anya met Siobhan by the track bleachers, the latter being the unlucky soul who would have to wait for her little brother, Jacob, to get finished with track tryouts, then drive him home. The wait being an hour and a half, she requested that Anya stick around with her until it was over.

"I'm hoping he doesn't make it, because I don't wanna be waiting for him every Tuesday and Thursday to get done, and have him stinking up my car, sweating like a pig."  
Ever since Siobhan got a car for her 17th birthday, she'd become the unwilling chauffeur for all her younger brothers and their various activities, her older brothers already out of the house, and in college. It sucked having uber Catholic parents who didn't 'believe' in birth control. But hey, the perks of being Irish. "Like, in all seriousness, I will be so happy if he gets cut, I swear it. I loaded him up with lots of junk food this last week so he'd be too bloated to run fast," she grinned deviously.

"Once again, worst person in the world," Anya snickered, sitting down beside her on the bleachers, nose wrinkling as she smelled the cigarettes on her friend again, growing disdainful of the smell over time. Being a quitter, and having a smoker friend had its downsides.

Slowly, the team hopefuls were beginning to congregate on the track, most of them freshmen and sophomores who wanted a sport for sake of status, some juniors, and a few seniors who needed P.E. credits, especially if they were transfer students.

Anya was both frustrated and amused to see Emily Reilly Leary seemingly just apparate among the throng of students, looking ready to burst out of her too-small gym uniform, which was flat against her board of a chest. It was frustrating to see her there, as if she had to always be within 100 feet of Anya's presence, just so the other could notice her and be irked by her existence. But at this moment, from this distance, it was kind of amusing to see the girl walk around the group, looking as though she was trying to start conversation with someone, at least a foot taller than most of them.

The coach blew his whistle, calling the group to his attention, lecturing how the hour and a half would go; They would be split into groups of three, and would be measured on time for the 100 meter dash, and on a run around the track itself. And probably just because the girls' uniforms were still those short skirts, the coach added a makeshift 'beep' test to the trials. 'War' flashbacks from gym class entered Anya's head, especially the certain memory of when she fell, involuntarily somersaulting, only for Elizabeth Standard to leap over her like a hurdle.

Trying to forget it at that moment was going to be impossible, especially when she just then saw Elizabeth in the crowd, talking quietly with a few of her friends, in it for sake of physical fitness. Anya still really hadn't connected with the girl, even after Elizabeth managed to dump her scummy boyfriend during junior year. They didn't really have enough in common, and even with all the occasional conversations in the hall, or nods of acknowledgement, they still really weren't  _friends_. It was kind of disappointing, because Elizabeth seemed like a nice person, but maybe some things weren't as feasible as they might seem.

Thinking back to the mishaps in gym, trying to make more positive connotations of it, part of Anya was starting to relish in the possibility that Emily Leary would flop over like a bundle of toothpicks, ass in the grass, and try to run through the trials like an awkward duck. Anya was growing even more certain that she hated the girl as she thought these things, feeling it was just too  _mean_  of her to be entertained at the though of someone else's embarrassment. Why was it that Emily, even after all this time, seemed to bring out the worst in her?

Soon the try-outs began, and as Siobhan had predicted and hoped for, her brother was a bag of gas, lagging behind the other two in his group, finishing the first two events in double the time the others did, and by the beep test, would be a goner. Anya's friend was doing her best to not cheer loudly as the boy collapsed at the end of the lap around the track, her Tuesdays and Thursdays were saved. Elizabeth fared well in her group, and was probably going to get a slot in the team, Anya predicted.

Lastly was Emily Leary's group, Anya expecting the girl to be left behind in the dust of the two boys she was racing with, a junior, and a senior. She watched, trying to feign disinterest, wanting to slap herself for hoping that the other would fail. She struck up pointless conversation, watching the whistle was blown, the three starting on the 100 meter dash.

Anya initially only noticed Emily's skinny-as-hell legs carrying themselves with a sense of weightless exertion, but then was surprised to see the girl at least a meter ahead of her groupmates, reaching the end of the dash with an impressive try-out time, 13.9 seconds. Emily definitely lied to Anya when she said she wasn't strong enough or fast enough to get away from the killer she'd fabricated in her death story. There was a sense of awkwardness in her run, but for sake of getting places, it was something to pay attention to.

Emily finished the lap in only a little over a minute, her chances of getting a slot pretty high, Anya figured. All that was left to face was the dreaded 'beep' test. As soon as the first beep started, the rush of the runners was like a drunk mosh pit, everyone rushing to the other side in a blind swarm. Slowly, one by one people began to fall out. Within six minutes, only half the runners were left, Elizabeth and Emily both still in the zone.

Anya had almost forgotten her initial predictions of Emily absolutely blowing it, when, as if fate were enacting on Anya's guilty pleasure of a wish, Emily's shoe caught the turf, sending her falling forward with a shrill yelp, flat on her face as if planking were still in style.

With the laughter that came from the spectators on the sidelines, and the fact that the other still hadn't gotten up, Anya was certain Emily just blew her chances of getting on the team, both amused and slightly pitying her now. Falling on her face the first week at a new school was not a good first impression, especially in the presence of boys.

Anya thought too soon, because as soon as she was about to comment to Siobhan about that little goof-up, Emily's stringbean arms gripped the grass impossibly tight, and she lifted herself off the ground in a split second, darting for the line, meeting it a second before the beep, back into the fray without another falter.

When the beep test was over another ten minutes later, everyone finally beat out, the coach announced that a team list would be up by the lockers by 5:00. Siobhan cursed her little brother out when he demanded they stay an extra thirty minutes to wait so he could see the list firsthand, telling him that 'there was no chance in hell' she would waste an extra thirty minutes for him to learn he was rejected, but as soon as she was done ranting, the list was getting taped onto the wall.

Siobhan's brother didn't even get on the waitlist.

Elizabeth was on the list.

Emily Reilly Leary was in the top five.

Anya wasn't sure whether or not she hated her for getting that successful so fast, or if she should be grateful that this would keep Emily busy from plotting any revenge against her.

Maybe it wasn't such a good thing that Anya was wanting to sit in on the first track meet, in hope that the other would fall on her face again, and maybe even break her big stupid nose.


	4. Chapter 4

Anya couldn't tell if this journalism assignment would be a blessing or a curse, considering the newspaper editor in chief asked her and another girl, Elsie, to report on athletics. And because basketball didn't start for a month, and football was Elsie's pick, Anya was left with track, which would require her to at least have some sort of visual contact with Emily, who was probably destined to be the track star, if not the bane of Anya's sanity during the school day. As Anya walked with her pad of paper in hand, she absentmindedly chewed the end of her pencil, leaving huge marks in the metal rim of the eraser, which was probably wet rubber by now.

Anya realized her action, pulling the pencil out of her mouth, groaning as she saw how gnawed it was, kicking herself mentally for regressing to such a stupid habit. Emily was driving her mad without even lifting a finger.

Stepping onto the track, Anya headed over to the coach, who was speaking with a few athletes on the sideline, and Anya tapped her pencil on her pad as she spoke up, "Hey, coach! I was wondering if I could interview you for the paper. I'm in charge of reporting the first meet this weekend."

"Can it wait? Busy here," he excused, going back to his very riveting discussion on who was bound to win the Superbowl that next year. Anya kept a straight face to hide her annoyance, and walked around a bit aimlessly to wait for the coach to give her his attention.

The track team was starting to gather on the track, chatting with each other. Anya noticed Emily Leary chatting with Elizabeth, surprisingly standing straight, not hunched or withdrawn like she usually was. And for once, instead of a blank frown, or sour expression, she was smiling, grinning even, looking happy. It almost made Anya feel a little less animosity and skepticism towards her, but there was still the nagging certainty in her head that Emily Leary was not an ordinary girl.

Brushing her bangs out of her face, Anya tapped her foot impatiently, seeing the coach still blabbing on and on. Giving up on ever interviewing him, she went over to the athletes instead. She deliberately avoided Emily, deciding to settle on one of the junior athletes, Tyson. When all of his answers were 'uhhh, I guess...um..yeah," Anya decided to try the coach again, only for him to suddenly blow his whistle, announcing practice had begun. Anya cursed to herself as she realized this meant she'd have to wait for the practice to be over before she could continue interviewing him.

About halfway through the practice, half of the team was sent to the bleachers to wait for the other half to complete one of the coach's drills. While Elizabeth was queuing up at the starting line, Emily was nonchalantly walking to the bleachers, right near where Anya was sitting. Sitting a few spaces away, she watched her teammates on the track for a moment before turning her attention to her chipped iPhone, tapping something Anya couldn't see. And if she tried to see, she'd just be creepy.

It was then that Anya realized the opportunity to figure the other out was knocking.

Anya wanted to catch her attention to see if she could illicit a reaction, to see if the girl would crack a grin, or drop a hint that she was out to get her after all. But she couldn't do it so quickly. She'd go in for the silent kill.

"...nice watch," Anya commented casually to Emily, who perked up a bit, glancing at the other and without even a flinch, gave a small nod with a polite hum, "Thank you."

"Where did you get it?", Anya then asked.

"Disneyland. It has Mickey Mouse on it," she informed with an equally casual tone, flipping open the top of the watch to show the cartoon character face.

_Shoot, almost had her that time._

Anya would have thought that Emily would have to hesitate in remembering something as trivial as Mickey Mouse, but she had answered without even a hitch. But then again, Emily was always good at lying...sort of. Maybe she had this all plotted out.

"...so...where are you from?", she decided to ask.

"Iowa. My dad got a new job here."

"Iowa?", Anya repeated with feigned interest, "What does he work as?"

"A newspaper columnist. He writes the dailies for the county paper," Emily answered without issue.

"What about your mom."

Emily paused, as if she were thinking of what to say, "She's a magazine collaborator."

"Why the pause?", Anya unintentionally asked aloud. Emily gave her a confused look.

"I didn't exactly know what to call it, since she does a bunch of things, like edit, write, and outline articles," she shrugged.

"Both of your parents are into written media?", she egged gently, "Do either of them like poetry?"

The messy haired girl shrugged again, "I suppose. Maybe not as much as you, but yeah."

Anya grinned as she realized she caught the other in something, "I never said I liked poetry. How did you know I liked poetry?"

Emily just gave a small shrug, "You asked me if they did, so I thought you were asking for common interest."

Before Anya could ask more questions, the coach blew the whistle, and Emily got up with a soft 'bye', heading down to the track.

Giving a small huff, Anya stood, realizing she had been so close to figuring out the other. She'd have to catch her when she was alone, without anyone in listening distance. She'd have to wait until practice was over, and talk to her then.

Anya began to formulate dozens of questions in her head during track, thinking of what to ask Emily;  _What's Iowa like? Does your dad ever write about you? What do you want to do when you graduate? College plans?_

But the only thing that came out of Anya's mouth after practice, in the girl's locker room where Emily was putting her track uniform away, the one thing that she had been telling herself not to say was,

"I know you're a ghost."

Hearing those words, there was no sign of realization, fear, or sense of being 'caught' in Emily's face, rather, she turned around, giving a confused look, "Excuse me?"

Anya crossed her arms, realizing she'd have to drop the 'nice' act, "A ghost. You can drop the act, Emily Reilly."

"My last name is Leary, not Reilly," Emily corrected, still looking confused, "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine. Stop changing the subject," Anya glared, "Why did you come back?"

"What are you even talking about?", Emily frowned, now looking annoyed, "I haven't been here before."

"I know you came back from the dead, your stupid skeleton fell into the hole and it got buried, so why are you-"

"Holy crap, have you gone weird?", she asked, exasperated, "I don't know what you're talking about, you're probably mixing me up with some other chick!"

At that moment, Anya saw something glint by Emily's chest, and reached for it, "What's this on your necklace? A bone? Your bone?"

"The hell?", Emily suddenly snapped, looking even more irritated, "That's a mummified bone from the Smithsonian gift shop! Jesus Christ, you're crazy!", she huffed swatted Anya's hand away from her necklace, "Now could you knock it off? Whatever joke you're pulling isn't funny!", she frowned, stomping past Anya, and out of the locker room.

"Whatever I'm pulling? I'm not the one who's a ninety-plus year ghost hanging in my enemy's high school!" Anya shouted back at her, her words echoing off the empty room's walls. Realizing she was alone, and that she hadn't even gotten the other to even crack, she turned bright red, realizing that Emily Leary could easily make her out to be the craziest person in school. And frankly, she wouldn't be lying.


	5. Chapter 5

Anya was both relieved and concerned that nothing came of the locker room confrontation. Relieved in that nobody seemed to acknowledge that she acted weird towards Emily, but concerned in that Emily didn't seem to acknowledge it either. The day after she confronted her, Anya noticed that Emily just went on as usual, not even sparing a disgusted glance at her. Even at the track meet, Emily didn't even seem to notice Anya was there, and if she did, she made no signal of it. Maybe she just didn't care, or maybe she was saving it up for something dastardly, like a school assembly where she could broadcast how Anya was a ghost obsessed maniac. Anything was possible with her.

Regardless, the lack of interaction did manage to keep Anya out of trouble with the girl for the next week, and by the beginning of the fourth week of school, Anya had pushed her deepest concern of Emily to the back of her mind.

One Tuesday in early October, after stopping by the coffee shop Siobhan was working at, Anya returned home to find her mother going through a big folder of papers; flyers from colleges that Anya had picked up, letters from in-state schools, and pamphlets from other colleges they'd toured over the last two years. Her mother looked up, a frown on her face, "Anya, you're late! You were supposed to be home thirty minutes ago..."

"But I always come home around this time," she sighed, putting her bag down, and reaching in the cupboard for a fruit roll-up.

"I told you that I wanted you home early to get organized for the college fair downtown tonight," she sighed, filing papers still.

"Is that tonight? Aw man, I forgot, sorry mom," Anya mumbled, tearing into her snack, and sat at the table, "Need help with anything now that I'm here?", she asked.

Her mother pushed her glasses up onto her face, "I almost have everything done. But I need you to leave out the list of emergency phone numbers for Sasha's babysitter."

"Finally found one?", Anya laughed, getting up to find the laminated paper of emergency numbers. Following a catastrophic incident the following year, Anya and her mother were not allowed to bring Sasha to the annual college fair until the sinkhole behind the rec center had solidified once and for all.

"It was a stroke of luck!", her mother smiled, "At book club this morning, our new member said her daughter needed a job, and I had asked if she was able to do babysitting," she got up to fix herself some tea, "She seems to have a very good record, her mother said she watched her neighbor's children in their old town every weekend."

"Ah, cool," Anya smiled, finishing her roll-up, which left her tongue bright blue. She huffed, seeing it under her tongue, and went upstairs to rinse out her mouth before the college fair, her mother announcing they'd leave in ten minutes or whenever the babysitter came. Changing into her regular clothes, she got ready to go, putting on boots and a coat, grabbing her umbrella. She was about to go downstairs when she nearly stepped on her brother's rubber dinosaurs, yelping, and hopped back.

Sasha scurried in to grab them, "Sorry! They're migrating!"

"I nearly punctured my foot on them!", Anya huffed, "Don't leave them in the hallway. The next migration trail stays within limits of your room."

Sasha was about to respond when the doorbell rang. Anya heard her mother go to the door and answer it. She went downstairs to head to the car when she stopped dead in her tracks to see the new person in the house, wearing worn sneakers, paint splattered jeans, and a fuzzy blue sweater with brighter blue stars on it, and the dreaded dandelion hair.

Her mother was introducing herself to Emily Reilly Leary.

* * *

Anya nearly screamed, but all that came out was a small noise, as she immediately clamped her mouth shut. Her mother noticed her presence in the room, "Oh, Anya!" she smiled, "The sitter's here!"

"Th-that's Emily-!", Anya nearly yelped, looking shocked, and almost horrified.

"Oh, do you know each other?", her mother smiled, looking between the two, Anya looking surprised, and Emily looking both annoyed and puzzled with the other's reaction.

"We're classmates," Emily mumbled, looking away from Anya, and walked away towards the living room to put her school satchel down.

Anya promptly ran to her brother's room, hugging him tightly from behind, making him squeal in shock, "Anyaaaa, lemme goooo! Are you eating all my sugar candies again?"

"Sasha, Sasha, Sasha! I need you to listen. If the babysitter tries anything weird on you, if she even gives you a dirty look, I want you to run, ok? Like, to your treehouse, or your friend Trevor's. Or...just hit her in the head with your boots! And call police! "

Sasha stared at her with wide eyes, "Is she secretly a vampire?"

"No, but she might as well be," and stuffed a second list of phone numbers in his pocket, including Siobhan's, and gave him the emergency cell phone, "Text me if there's trouble!", she whispered.

"What's wrong with the babysitter if she's not a vampire?", Sasha then asked, looking at the numbers, as well as the canister of pepper spray Anya had put in his hand, giving a small huff when she reached for a bike helmet to put on him. Better safe than sorry with Emily.

"Well," Anya sighed, kneeling, "Remember a couple of years ago when Mom broke her ankle? And the 'monster'?"

"Yeah?", he nodded, still remembering the frightening whispering from the floating monster above his bed.

"...I think the sitter is the monster," Anya spoke bluntly, "Back to get us."

"Whaaaaaat?!", Sasha gasped, taking it to be the gospel truth, "How do you know?!"

"Well, she looks like the monster, and she is just like her," Anya mumbled, getting up, "And I don't want you to get hurt."

Sasha gave a thoughtful look, and without a word, hurried down the stairs to get a look at the monster himself, against Anya's attempt to stop him, and bravely peeked his head in, seeing his babysitter working on her homework on the coffee table. After a few seconds of observing, he hurried back up the stairs, giving a frown to Anya, "You're wrong! That's not the monster. That looks nothing like the monster!"

"Well, maybe not the hair, but they're the same, I'm sure of it," Anya sighed.

"They can't be the same," Sasha piped up, " The sitter looks nice. The monster was ugly, like you in the morning!"

Anya was both amused and offended by her brother's statement, gently smacking him on the head, "Looks are deceiving. Better you be safe than sorry," and hugged him tightly, as if this were the last time she'd see him, "I love you, Sasha!"

"Your face smells like wet dog!", Sasha groaned, getting smushed by his sister.

Anya then went downstairs to make sure Emily wasn't sneaking around the house, looking for the matches or something else ignitable, anxiety sated when she saw the girl still working on her homework. Without thinking, she cynically asked, "Have any trouble finding the house?"

Emily looked up, and gave a frown, "Uh, no. I took the bus."

Watching the other fix her attention back to her homework, Anya stared at her for a while, her frown growing into a glare, and then spoke lowly, "I'm watching you, Emily. Don't you try anything."

Giving an annoyed sigh, Emily looked up, unamused, "I don't know what your problem is. I don't even know you outside of class. So, if this is some weird joke you're pulling, I don't get it, and  _kindly_  request you stop it."

Anya glared, "You hurt my brother, and you'll be sorry."

Emily was about to reply, looking angrier than before, but her response was cut off by Anya's mother calling for her daughter. Anya's stomach knotted with anxiety, and she headed towards the front door, but not before giving the 'I'm watching you' signal to Emily, who rolled her eyes, looking fed up with her classmate.

* * *

When Anya and her mother were out of the house, Sasha crept down from his room, and into the living room, sitting in a chair across from Emily, who looked up, "You must be Sasha."

"You must be my babysitter," he replied, holding one of the weapons of defense Anya had given him, a hockey stick.

Emily looked at the hockey stick, then his face, then the hockey stick again, "...Are you planning to hit me with that?", she asked, looking a little concerned.

"Maybeeeeee," he squinted, "Are you a monster?"

"Does it look like I'm a monster?", she raised an eyebrow, folding her arms.

"No," Sasha decided, "But Anya told me to be careful of you."

"I see," she nodded, "She doesn't like me very much, it seems."

"She thinks you're the monster who scared us two years ago," Sasha explained.

"I see," she nodded, her fluffy mess of hair bobbing with her head, "Makes more sense. Well, I don't know how to prove I'm not a monster to her, but you, what can I do to prove to you I'm not a monster?", she smiled playfully, wanting to ease any worry from the boy.

The boy frowned, humming in thought, then immediately ran out of the room, coming back in with his collection of plastic dinosaurs, staring at her with a serious face, "I need to quiz you on your dinosaurs. If you guess them all, I'll know you're not a monster, and just really smart."

Emily sucked in her cheeks, guessing this was probably going to be an interesting night.

* * *

It was hard to focus on what the representatives were saying at the college fair, and it was even harder to answer their questions Anya had found. She was far too worried about her brother, and the possible dangers he was in being alone with who was, as Anya was certain, a vengeful ghost.

Midway through her interviews, Anya had a vision of Emily Reilly grinning maliciously as she turned on the burners to the stove, holding matches as she set the house alight, and locking a terrified Sasha in the basement, screaming for Anya to help while the ghost fled the scene. Anya shook that out of her head quickly, remembering their basement didn't even have a lock, and the emergency door down there always worked. Besides, Sasha could easily escape a fire through a window, or the roof.  
When her mother was talking to another parent, Anya had another vision of Sasha being stuck in what could only be deciphered as a bubbling cauldron of witches brew, Emily's teeth growing canine and carnivorous as her tongue ran across them hungrily, animal evilness in her eyes as she stirred the poor boy in the cannibal soup. She instantly realized this vision was just silly, since there wasn't even a cauldron in their house, and Sasha was too big to fit in any pot they owned. Besides, Emily was a ghost, not the witch from Hansel and Gretel.  
Anya had another on the car ride home, envisioning her brother being tied on an old fashioned torture rack, getting stretched to impossible lengths as Emily turned the crank with a wicked smile, laughing maniacally. This vision being just as stupid as the other one, Anya groaned, realizing she had no choice but to wait until she got home to know that Sasha was ok. It was killing her to have to wait at every red light that passed.

When they turned the corner to reach their neighborhood, Anya held her breath in fear the house would be on fire, but to her slight relief, it was standing with the lights on as they left it. She impatiently waited for her mother to unlock the door, and nearly rushed inside, looking around for Sasha. Not seeing him immediately at the door, she hurried for the stairs, only to hear a triumphant cry from the living room.

Scurrying to the living room, she saw her brother had pulled out their old game system, the one they hadn't used in years ever since they got handheld gaming devices, and was currently in a head to head match of Mariokart against Emily Leary, both sat cross legged, Sasha on the floor in his pajamas, the sitter on the couch with her shoes off, revealing black and blue polka dot socks. Neither turned their head to acknowledge Anya, who stared in both disbelief at seeing someone like Emily playing a video game, and relief that her brother seemed unharmed.

Emily gave a small noise of dismay as Sasha acquired a blue shell, sending it speeding at her, just feet away from the finish line. Coming in first, Sasha pumped his fist in the air gleefully, "That makes three rounds, monster!", he laughed proudly at Emily, and then noticed his sister in the doorway, "Anya! I'm winning!"

Anya gave a tight smile, "G-great, Sash," and looked to Emily, who glanced at her neutrally, "How did you even learn to play this?", she asked, as if she still believed the other was a ghost from the early 20th century.

The owl-eyed girl gave an annoyed face to Anya, "I have this game at home. I play it with my dad," and got up as Sasha turned off the game, "And with that, I go home. I didn't harm your brother, see?", she scowled at her, before softening her face and turned to Sasha, "Thanks for not completely destroying me tonight, Sasha-The-Monster-Slayer," she smiled to the boy, who gave a thumbs up and a silly face.

Once Emily was paid by Anya's mother, and heading home to the bus stop, Anya took Sasha up to bed, and asked, "So...did anything happen?"

Sasha jumped on his bed, "She helped me with my homework, I ate pizza rolls for dinner, and we played Mariokart until you got home."

"She didn't get creepy, did she? Like ask about me or anything?"

"Nope," he shrugged, pulling off his socks, "She did ask about my dinosaurs though. She couldn't even name any besides the pterodactyl and the tyrannosaurus rex!", he sighed with disappointment.

"...So, you don't think she's a monster?", Anya then asked.

"Oh, no, she's definitely a monster," Sasha looked serious, eyes wide, looking into his sister's slightly horrified face, "...she couldn't name all my dinosaurs. If she could, she wouldn't be a monster.'

"So...she is a monster...?" his sister asked, not sure whether to be worried, or just outright confused.

"Yes," he concluded, sitting on the bed, "...but a nice monster," he smiled, and pulled the blankets up over himself, "...'Night, Anya. Turn out the light."

As Anya turned off his bedroom light for him, she couldn't help but wonder if this was a sign that she was safe after all, or Sasha was going to be favored by an otherwise vengeful spirit. And as she went downstairs for a snack, she began to wonder that maybe she really was wrong this whole time, and that Emily Leary was just that, Emily Leary, a transfer student from Iowa.

Anya decided she would hate Emily more for the night when she realized the sitter had eaten the last fruit roll up.


	6. Chapter 6

Mid-October came by in what seemed like a short time, the weather getting colder gradually as the days rolled on, morning dew becoming frost on the grass, and if the air was sharp, Anya would see her breath come out like smoke, and just by walking to the school entrance from the bus stop, her nose would become bright red, threatening to run. Her solution was to pull her turtleneck up over her nose and mouth until she got inside. Something was telling her it was probably wise to start bringing her coat to school, even if it was bulky, took up too much space in her locker, and no fun to carry around. Anya considered it irony that even though she was Russian, she couldn't stand the chilly weather. Siobhan on the other hand, was probably a demon, Anya had concluded, since she never seemed cold, and wore the same outfit most every day (she rocked the rebellious but formal look like no other). And Emily always arrived to school looking ready to go explore a glacier, wearing a thick coat, an impossibly long scarf and hat that almost covered her entire face, and taking it off like it was nothing.

Speaking of Emily, the girl had not returned to babysit Sasha, services not having been needed since then, and Anya was perfectly pleased with it. She had taken steps to avoid contact with the other girl, and Emily seemed to do the same, figuring it would be best if they left each other alone. And with that, Anya felt a bit of a weight off her shoulders, not worrying about the others' intentions 24/7.

Now they just had to do this until graduation day.

* * *

Anya was almost certain this could be successful until the English teacher began to discuss term projects, and how they would be split into groups of two. Anya was ready to pick some random kid to pair up with until the teacher announced pairs would be randomized.

Somehow, Anya didn't feel so lucky, and a stone seemed to drop into her stomach as the teacher began to pull names from the hat they'd pulled out. Anya's name wasn't called, and neither was Emily. Soon, it was coming down to the last handful of people in the class, and Anya was getting anxious.

"Andrea and Carlos."

_Come on, me and Julie. Or Emily and Julie..._

"Brian and Julie."

_Oh no. That means..._

"Anya and Emily."

Her stomach knotted up impossibly tight, and she only managed a stiff nod as she reluctantly glanced over to Emily, who looked just as unenthused with the pairing.

"Our group projects will be based on books we have read in the last four years of school. Once again, random selection," the teacher then announced.

It was almost like this teacher  _wanted_  Anya to explode her head on sight.

Two minutes later, Anya was grimacing over the book title  _The Hobbit_. Of all the books, she had to be assigned to one of the longest, most analyzed books ever, with someone she'd rather not ever have to talk to ever again.

She was about to give a huff of indignation when a voice softly piped up, "I really do like this book. It shouldn't be so bad..."

Anya stared at Emily, whose owlish eyes were looking at the assignment instructions. She held back the urge to make a comment about how quickly she must have read that book if she was only alive for a short time. She had to promise herself if this whole 'ignore Emily' thing was to work, that she'd not bring up the ghost thing again.

"I've analyzed this story before, even if not in this curriculum. Maybe I can work chiefly on the metaphorical voice part of the project."

"So what do I do?"

"...whatever you do best," Emily shrugged before adding, "Aside from thinking I'm Satan."

Anya swallowed back an insult, and rolled her eyes, trying to stop the burning sensation in her ears.  _Strike one Emily!_

Glaring momentarily at the other, Anya blankly spoke, "I can do everything else. Just send me stuff for the paper on email once you have it."

"The instructions say group research though...", Emily pointed out.

"Trust me the more we work on our own time the sooner it's done. Besides, you have track meets all this week, so we couldn't be at the library even if you wanted," she huffed.

Emily flushed, frowning, "I just want to know time is being managed right."

Before anymore could be said, the bell rang, and the two were on their separate ways, Anya only glancing back at Emily once, the girl looking back at her as if she had something she still wanted to say for a moment, then looked away, walking past the freckled girl with no words.

* * *

It was almost like Anya was gifted with telepathy the next morning, sensing a reason to be fearful. Of what, she wouldn't know until she heard a group of boys she recognized from the track team cackling down the hallway as they stood in their group, a figure quickly rushing away from them.

"Who'da thunk she'd try askin' you out, Damien?", one of the boys, Creighton, snickered to his friend.

"Well gotta give the chick credit for asking me in front of you guys," he mumbled, flushed with embarrassment, but laughing it off.

"So are you gonna go out with her?", another chortled, making kissy faces at Damien, who rolled his eyes, giving a snort.

"No thanks!", he laughed, chorals of chuckles coming from his compadres.

 _Ugh, jerks_ , Anya scowled, still hearing the conversation, turned her attention to the girl they had embarrassed rushing down the hall, slamming her shoulder hard against the door to open it, and leaving.

When it finally registered it was Emily Leary, Anya had a sinking feeling that something bad was going to happen.

She kept watch on the girl during first period, seeing her stare at her desk with disturbing fixation, almost looking angry enough to break her chair. She didn't even flinch when the bell rang. During one of her class periods, Anya would learn that Emily just so happened to have a crush on Damien from the team. And from what happened in the hall, it wasn't the same on his end. This was the one time Anya was praying that her ghost convictions had been wrong all along, because if this was anything like the first time Emily was rejected, the school was going to be up in flames.

Anya was both relieved and fearful as the final bell rang for school. Relieved that most of the students would be out of Emily's clutch. And fearful that there was a track meet scheduled today.

Without a single thought, she rushed for the locker room, almost hallucinating the smell of smoke as she got closer. Oh god, there must really have been a fire. People were going to be trapped in there. She had to get everyone out. She had to-

The smell of sweat, deodorant, and gymsocks waived away the imagined smell of a flame, and the noises that Anya thought were crackles were nothing more than sniffles and whimpering.

She turned her head around the first row of lockers to see Emily Leary absolutely crying her eyes out while Elizabeth Standard gently rubbed her shoulder. Anya stared in shock at the girl, not having expected to see this. She expected to maybe see her crying a little as she set the locker room on fire, or trashed it, or something destructive. Not seeing her sat in a mess on the bench, looking utterly embarrassed, heartbroken,  _hurt_.

Somehow, Anya felt as though in the last month or so, she'd forgotten that Emily Leary could have feelings. Not like she had to consider them or anything, but somehow, she didn't feel like confronting the girl over the possibility of her being a pyromaniac again.

Elizabeth looked up at Anya for only a second, then back to Emily, who was looking at Anya with a watery scowl. Not sensing the tension, Elizabeth just spoke softly, "We're ok, Anya."

"What happened?", she decided to ask, trying not to sound like she was going to use it against Emily.

"It's nothing," Elizabeth spoke softly, "Some guys are just jerks."

Anya was left staring at Emily as she tried wiping her eyes again, and then looked at the floor, feeling a sense of guilt.

"Yeah. Some people are."


	7. Chapter 7

The days following after were, for the most part, rather peaceful for Anya. Emily's track meets kept her from directly talking with Anya about their group project, and Anya had plenty of time to get her half done to meet standards. She spent more time with Siobhan, staying at the cafe after school to antagonize her friend on the job, and get free drinks. Maybe of things could continue this smoothly even after the big cross country meet was over, and Emily would be free to talk to Anya again.

Speaking of which, Emily had not said a single word to Anya following that afternoon in the locker room. In fact, she didn't seem to say anything at all. It was just...quietness. She never raised her hand in class, and she didn't talk with the other classmates. She was just...there. She never even stopped Anya to ask her how the project was going, just sending everything by email without much commentary.

Anya thought she'd feel relieved that Emily was less of a worry for her, but in reality...she felt bad. She didn't think it was possible, but Anya had almost certainly settled in the conclusion that she was 100% wrong about the girl, and was now starting to regret having hassled her over her alleged identity.

It wasn't like there was anything Anya could do to help that anymore, except just move forward, and leave Emily alone. No troubles there. Maybe once their project was done, they could avoid each other 100% until graduation hit, and they were free of each other. That would be a mutually progressive idea!

Mutal progression went right out the window Friday morning when the journalism teacher assigned Anya to report the district cross country meet.

* * *

"Call in sick, and you won't have to go," Siobhan had suggested to her with a shrug, helping herself to one of the cafe cookies. She was capable of getting away with stuff that would get a normal chump fired in a heartbeat.

"I would, but my mom would find out and ground me for faking," Anya had grumbled over her latte, "I just need to keep away from Leary."

"Ok, I think I'm suffering from Alzheimer's, so tell me again...what's your deal with her?" Siobhan sighed, leaning her elbow on the counter, glancing at her friend.

"It's a cats and dogs thing. Compatibility, y'know?", Anya sighed, not wanting to drag Siobhan into the whole ghost sh'bang. Though, with how much stuff the other smoked, it probably would make sense to her just fine.

"Compatibility? What, you gay for her?", she laughed, slapping her on the back playfully.

"Hell no!", she snorted, "She's my English partner!"

"You mean domestic partner?", Siobhan cackled, having too much fun getting a rise out of Anya.

"Ugh, you're a real help," Anya grumbled sarcastically.

"Oh come on, I'm just messin' with ya. So yeah, like, just a chick who gets on your nerves right?"

"Yeah. Just leave it at that," she sighed, "She's not weird in the class you have together, right?"

"Dude, I barely go to class," Siobhan laughed, stealing another cookie, scarfing it down, "And no. She's just like every other ween in the class, nothin' different."

"Ok," Anya mumbled, taking a long sip of coffee, "...will you come with me to the track meet? Just so I'm not bitching to myself?"

"I have work," Siobhan sighed, folding her arms.

"...Since when have you ever cared about being at your shift on time?", Anya asked with a sly smile.

"...since never!" Siobhan cackled, "Hell yeah, I'll come."

* * *

"Is it just me, or are these bleachers ice cold on the ass?"

"Wear thicker pants, Sib, I'm freezing just looking at you," Anya laughed as she readied her camera for the meet that was about to start. They were sat in the front row that was reserved for the journalists, only a few meters from the track itself. Close enough to smell the body spray and sweat.

"Russians don't freeze," Siobhan laughed as she poked Anya's arm, "Irish do."

"If the Irish didn't wear skinny jeans, they might fare better in the winter," she teased, looking out at the track, seeing the runners were about to line up. Anya saw Emily at the second to last relay checkpoint on the track, bouncing nervously on her feet, staring straight ahead as if she were trying to keep focus. She would have to receive the baton from Damien, and then relay it to Elizabeth, who would run to the finish line. Anya just hoped, for Emily's sake, she could focus on the sport itself, and not the fact her rejected crush would be passing to her.

Anya started up her camera several seconds before the starting shot was fired and the teams took off running. The rival track team were at least one second ahead, and Damien was sprinting as fast as he could to keep up. He was halfway towards Emily's checkpoint when one of his buddies, Michael, called out, "Hey Emily, if you stick around long enough on the checkpoint, maybe he'll give you a kissy!"

Emily's expression was more than enough to say she was not wanting that, and Anya could see the girl tensing up, hands starting to shake. Something in Anya broke loose, and she snapped, "You're a jerk, Michael!"

For a split second, Anya was feeling a sense of excitement, and even sooner was asking herself why the hell she just stuck up for Emily Leary. Maybe it was humility. Or maybe it was because this was the last meet of the season, and she'd feel a sense of pride writing the article stating that they actually won something.

If she heard the comment, Anya wouldn't know, but when she saw Emily's jaw clench in steely determination, she knew that shit was going to go down. And on camera.

When Damien's hand reached hers to pass the baton, she whirled around for a split second and gave him a surprise 'accidental' sucker punch before taking off like Speedy Gonzales, making tracks in half the time her stunned teammate had made. He was rubbing his jaw, wondering exactly what had happened.

Anya had seen the punch, and knew it wasn't an accident. She knew Emily wasn't going to get penalized for it if she made it look accidental, and the image of her getting sweet revenge on a crush without killing them was inexplicably hilarious to Anya. Well, it had to be, because that could be the only explanation for her hysterical laughter as she saw Emily speeding around the bend, and soon slapping the baton in Elizabeth's hand.

Even when Elizabeth crossed the finish line in first, when people cheered, when people chanted gleefully "Ham-Ham-Hamilton!", Anya's laughter had not ceased.

Siobhan asked her if she was absolutely sure she did not smoke anything before the meet.

* * *

Anya was glad she got journalist privilege of attending the end of season meet party that the 'track parents' hosted. Plenty of good food, and because parents had to attend, there wasn't going to be a lot of grubby slobs trying to pull a move on her.

Though, because it was parent monitored, they didn't really get to do much, aside from talk and eat. And she really wasn't up to party chat with people she hardly knew, aside from Elizabeth and Emily.

Speaking of which, she had barely seen the girl during the party, and decided to ask Elizabeth nonchalantly where she was. Elizabeth pointed to the back patio where a couple other athletes were, seeing Emily sat in a corner lounge seat, looking out at the evening sky.

Awkwardly, Anya got up, and went outside, sitting a few spaces away from the other, and decided to say coolly, "I got some more stuff done on our project."

Emily glanced up, "Oh...uh...great..."

"...so...congrats on winning the track meet. And for scoring the best individual time," Anya awkwardly praised, feeling very weird congratulating the girl she'd been hounding on since the beginning of the year.

"Thanks," Emily mumbled, picking at a hangnail, looking at her hands, "I hope I don't get in trouble though."

"Huh? Why?," Anya asked, reaching for a soda that was in a nearby cooler.

"I punched Damien at the meet."

"Really?", Anya was playing dumb, "I swear that looked like an accident. Everyone thought it was."

"Oh...well it wasn't. Think I should come clean?"

"Nah, you're off the hook. Damien's a jerk anyway. Why'd you even crush on him?"

"I dunno," Emily admitted shyly, "I just seem to fall for the wrong guys."

"We all make that mistake," Anya sighed, "Trust me. It's a bitch of living, but it's only human."

"Yeah, I guess so," Emily admitted, "I'm tempted to swear off boys until I'm wrinkled and have nothing to lose but my teeth."

"That's the spirit," the freckled girl snickered, taking a long sip of her drink, "I've been doing that for the last few years."

"Oh. Holding up ok?"

"Fantastic," Anya snorted, and Emily gave a reserved giggle, reaching for her own soda, and opened it. Tasting it, she grimaced, "Ugh, grape. I hate this stuff."

"No kidding? I love it."

"I got colds all the time when I was little and had so much grape flavored medicine, I've hated anything grape flavored except actual grapes," Emily muttered, and glanced at Anya's drink, "Pass me that lemon stuff."

Handing her the soda, Anya kicked back, "How different is Iowa from here?"

"So far, not too much. We had pretty average weather in my area," Emily shrugged, taking a long sip of her lemon soda, looking relieved and refreshed from its taste.

"Well get ready for hell freezing over. The winters here get miserable. Snow and snow, and wait for it...snow."

"I could stand a little snow," the owl-eyed girl smiled, "It looks so clean and pure."

"It ain't so pure when your car is stuck in it," Anya laughed, "Or you slip and break your ass on the driveway. Or freeze."

"I have heavy winter clothes," Emily informed, "I'll live."

"Yeah, I know. I see you walk to school with that huge jacket. How do you even see out of that thing?", she laughed.

"Good question," she giggled, and both girls began to laugh harder.

Their chatter went on longer, and even when the party simmered down, and most people had left, they were still in each other's company.

Anya didn't mind it at all.


End file.
